I choose what I want to eat or drink, anything that fancies my mood because that is more predictable than yours.
I choose who I want to be with or where I want to go during the one hour lunch because it’s a breather from the 9 to 6 of being at your beck and call.
I choose not to let your thoughtless words and controlling ways affect me because you may have spent sixty years in want of a little respect but that’s your life and I am only responsible for mine.
I will choose to leave when you think you have me wrapped around your fingers with a piece of paper, because I am not ashamed or sorry to say we are just not meant to be.
But thank you that the eight months of painful probation is finally over and I am finally ‘free’ to kickstart the next job hunt. Maybe I will squeeze in a short getaway as a treat and retreat for me too.